25 Steps to Hell
by MissPompeiiWoleese
Summary: An OC spin off at Camp Half-Blood. Please read and review, that would be lovely :)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I hadn't planned on publishing this on here but then I decided why not. OC spin off at Camp Half-Blood. Feel free to review. I understand if you don't because yadda yadda. Anyhows yeah.

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Eurgh early mornings in the Hades cabin were always dreary. Each and every one of us had a 'if you speak, I'll have your fucking head' look about us when we woke up - even little Madi. But before we continue on about the unpleasantries of cabin 13 maybe I should introduce myself.

I'm Colt Host, eighteen years old, and a son of Hades. Everything about everything - even my own family - irks me. I don't like physical affection, conversations that last longer than twenty seconds and anyone who stands in my way. I have low patience tolerance but rarely act out of anger - or love. I'm quick, flexible and as dark as black itself.

Before I arrived at Camp Half-Blood I worked for many people - well, clients of my own really. Being a child it was easy to do certain tasks, harder to do others. Oh I should also mention that I have dead parents, not really a surprise at this demi-god camp, but that's another story.

Though the story could be included this one, I don't know. I'm not really one for narrating my life. It's dull and boring.

I'll start from when it all began. Not like when the titans ruled the world, but it was at least a decade ago.

It was only hours after the chaos had occurred at the Halloween State Carnival. I dragged myself along the side of the road, barely able to see due to the darkness of the sky, but I was continuing nonetheless. I had managed to swipe myself a backpack and about sixty bucks in cash amongst the midst of the confusion and commotion.

I also carried a gun in my right hand - which I assumed was full with bullets, I hoped. Now, I know what you're thinking. A young six year old with a gun, but I had no choice. This gun was the only thing left of my parents. My parents who were murdered right in front of my eyes only hours ago.

This was the gun that killed them. And I was going to shoot the bastards who murdered them.

I trekked on alongside the road and stuck a little closer to the ongoing woods rather than the road. My mum always said that you don't know what hooligans could be driving around at this time. And, as far as I was concerned, there was no other escape route.

I could hear the indistinct sounds of wolves howling in the night but that didn't scare me. If anything it soothed me and reminded me that I wasn't completely alone.

My legs hurt from all the walking I had done. I look down at my watch and from the time, a little after midnight, I had been walking for almost four hours.

Four hours since my parents died.

Four hours since I became an orphan.

I shuddered and pushed the thought from my mind. There'd be plenty of time to grieve once this horrendous adventure ended.

But to help myself continue I think about my parents and home. We were a poor family, poorer than most families. My mother worked full time and barely had enough money to supply food on the table. Dad was an ignorant dick who left the house for most the day and wouldn't return until late in the night. I only ever saw him on weekends, and even then our time was limited. Not that I really cared.

It was always mum that had been there for me. She was the one who sung me to sleep, who bandaged up my knee when I grazed it and ruffled my hair when it was messy.

She was the best person anyone could ever want. And she asked for little, just to go out and buy some local bread when she was feeling sick or giving her a back massage because she was saw from scrubbing her hands raw. I loved her with all my heart. And in an instant, she was just gone.

But I press on. I have to be strong. I hate being weak so I must be strong.

I don't know how much longer I walked for, I was so tired that I could barely lift my arm to check my watch. I guessed that it was around three am. By that time I had tucked the gun away in the backpack – I doubted anything troublesome was going to happen. I had to be getting close to somewhere. Roads don't just lead to nowhere. There has to be some destination.

And there was.

It had been another half an hour or so when I saw a big light. When I take a few steps, squinting, I could see that it was a take away shop then I break out into a run, which explained the giant neon lights and everything. Beside it was an old, out-of-business, gas station and a tattered and faded billboard for some old movie. I was panting by the time I arrived out front and double over, clutching at my ribs, trying to catch my breath.

I look up and read the sign over head. It took me a few moments to actually read the sign properly then I finally translated it to: Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium. I could smell the familiar scents of burgers and chips and grease and all sorts of yummy food.

I hesitated before I push the giant door open with a creak. I sigh in the smells of hot food and close my eyes momentarily. There was a lady standing behind the counter, covered in head-to-toe of some sort of sarong thing. She turned and caught sight of me. I find myself blushing and try to hide in the shadows but there was no point, she saw me fully.

"Oh my dear. What are you doing out here all on your own? And at this time?"

I look up at her then gulp. "I…. lost." I lie to her. "I saw here and just thought…. I'm so very hungry."

The lady nodded as if she understood and waved then she gestured for me to come further. "Go through that door, there's a dining area. I'll bring you something to eat and drink."

I had to utilize all self-control not to just run in. I brush past her and go into the room adjacent to the one I was just in. The place was full of statues, people wearing all sorts of outfits and different poses. I look out the dark window and just make out some more statues outside. I shrug. All I could think about was food and rest.

A moment later the lady follows me in and heads straight to the other side where a grill and snack counter and soda fountain was. My stomach grumbled loudly and I flush, embarrassed.

She just smiled amusingly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of for being hungry, child."

I manage to give her a weak smile before going to a table set up for four. I sit on the seat and then wait anxiously for my meal. Just five minutes later she returned to where I sat and placed down a very large cheeseburger with a can of coke and extra-large fries. I dig in graciously.

About halfway through I finally register her eyes on me which was making me a little nervous. I look up at her as I gulp down another bite of my burger. "So… You're Aunty Em?"

Aunty Em nodded. "Yes. And you are young Charlie. Aren't you?"

I look at her intensely. My black eyes trying to find hers but all I could see was the contents of the veil that covered her head. "Yeah… how did you-?"

"Oh trust me child, I know everyone who walks into this place."

I bite my lip and put my burger down, suddenly full. I didn't like the fact that Aunty Em knew my name. 'Charlie' just sounded to… well, it sounded like something who someone close would call me. Nobody was close to me… not anymore. I frown. I don't want anyone close to me. I don't want them to see my vulnerability. Because if they do then all they'd see was a frightened kid. And that was exactly what I was trying _not _to be.

I shudder. Now I felt uncomfortable. Like I was being watched. I turn around but all I see is just more statues. I look back at Aunty Em then push my chair back. "I think I should really be going." I then add, "Thanks for the meal. Um, how much?"

"What? So soon? And it's so late. You might get cold or hungry or get hurt. No child, you should stay I think. Let Aunty Em give you a place to stay tonight."

I shake my head. "Um, no sorry. I really should go."

Aunty Em leaned in close and I could feel her studying me with her penetrating stare. "Such beautiful black eyes. Tell me sweet, do you have your father's eyes?" She pressed her hand to my cheek but I brush it away, rudely.

"No, my father has green eyes." I tell her. "And I'll be on my way."

"Oh but young Charlie, would you not have a photo? It's so rare I see children nowadays with the new highway, I barely get any customers." She tells me. "I'll use it to create a new statue and I'm certain it would sell for lots." Aunty Em insisted.

If this was the only thing that would get her to let me leave then I suppose I'd let her have a photo. Besides, it wasn't like I was coming back here any time soon. I give her a slight nod. "Okay, one photo. Then I really must go."

She smiled proudly then directed me back out the door and toward a park bench. Aunty Em settles me between two statues. When she leaned in close to sit beside me I swear I could have heard something vaguely similar to a hiss but I choose to ignore it. Was probably just hearing things.

Aunty Em moves back as if to admire the position. I look at her nervously, trying to ignore the louder hisses. She then begins to unravel the veil on her head and straight away I know something is wrong. The entire time that I was there she hadn't taken that thing off and now, just as she was going to take my photo, she decides to take it off.

"I can never see in this wretched thing." Aunty Em complained.

The hissing sound is a lot louder now and as I watch Aunty Em unwrap the last of the veil I quickly jump toward the ground with a grunt. I can hear the slither of serpent's and their rattling tongues. I shudder again. Gross. Why was I so stupid? Aunty Em. M. Medusa. Idiot!

I crawl begin to quickly crawl away beneath the bench and into the shadows, and I figure that she can't see me. I crawl faster into the shadows and block out the sounds of the stupid snakes and slight curses of Medusa. "Come to me, young Charlie. Come out where ever you are. I promise I'm a sight for your eyes. All you have to do is look."

I crawl back into the store, staying in the shadows so she couldn't find me, when I catch sight of a mirror. I see the back of Medusa's head – snakes. Snakes everywhere. Gross. I continue on, going for the first door that I came from when a pair of feet stamp right in front of me.

I jump back startled and fight the urge to look up at her. If I look, I die. That's what I keep reminding myself so I don't look. "Come and stay Charlie. I promise you'll be treated well." She said in a rather persuading voice. I choose to ignore it and force myself toward the door but it's hard when you've got Medusa standing right beside you.

I glance to my left and inside a vase is a collection of rather large looking stick things. I dive for it and pull one out, clambering to my feet, I grab one then swing it behind me. I feel the vibrations go up my arm when it collides with a solid. So that's when I know I've hit Medusa. I grin and turn, my eyes clamped shut though, and go for another swing toward the ground, hoping to hit her in the legs.

I hear a grunt of pain and smirk to myself proudly. I hear a stumble and I know that she's on the floor. My eyes are still closed so when I go to surge forward I end up tripping on a pair of legs. I fall, having nothing to break my fall and land flat on my face. Suddenly I could feel a warm liquid rushing from my nose and the familiar, but gross, taste of blood falls over my lips. I cry out in pain but scramble to my feet once more. I daren't open my eyes so I feel around with my hands.

Once the feel of a doorknob is in my grasp I yank it open and the back of the door hits something. I turn back then, once more, hear Medusa fall back down on the hard ground. Then it's silent. I open my eyes but I'm looking at my feet. I don't want to take any chances so I pull off my jacket and toss it on the head of her body.

I sigh in relief, only just realizing that I was pretty much holding my breath the entire time. Stepping back a little, I put my hands on my hips, quite proud of my work. But she wouldn't stay down for long. I look about the place, chewing on my lip. I knew that stealing was wrong… but did it count when you stole from some crazy, supposedly dead, Greek mythological monster? And speaking of 'mythological' monsters, what the heck was happening?

It seems as though I only _just _figured the fact that I was fighting Medusa. So what did that mean? I was never really educated, nor did I think I was going to be, but I had heard stories of the Greeks. A lot of people in my town told the stories of demi-gods, half god, half human, like Perseus and Hercules. They told the stories of how the gods, Zeus, Poseidon and Hades overthrew their father, Cronus and they spoke about the Titans and everything ever possible. We, some kids and I, used to huddle around a small fire at a local spot that the poor usually hung about. The elders told us about them as we held hot bowls of soup in our hands, teetering on the edge of our seats and listening to their every word.

When I thought about it I guess the Greek gods were one of the few things that actually caught my interests. Though I never actually imagine that they'd be _real. _I couldn't believe it. If Medusa was real… Did that mean everything else was?

Only hours ago my journey was to …. Well I'm not quite sure what it was. But now, now I think I know. My parents are dead. What do I have to lose? My life? What's the point in a life when all the good things are gone? I need to find a place, I believe that there's some place that can give me answers.

But before I can find it, I need to get out of here.

Okay, I think Medusa was knocked out but still, I was hesitant to hang around here for long. I swing the backpack – which I had apparently dropped earlier –over my shoulder then I half jog to the counter. I wait a moment then jump over the counter and find myself standing right behind the cash register. No pin, thankfully, but it required a key to get in. I search the cupboards and shelves on the counter, pulling open drawers and knocking over jars until my hand settles on a key.

I grab it then shove it in the hole, twisting and it opens. The cash register slides open. I can practically feel my eyes twinkling just at the sight of all this money. I grab about another eighty dollars and shove it in my bag. A whole bunch of golden coins take up most of the room in the cash register. I had never seen them before but they looked valuable. So I shove them in my bag also. I grab as much food and drink my bag could carry along with a thick jumper that was slung on the back of a chair.

I take one glance back at the form on the floor then get out of there.


	2. Chapter 2

As time went on, the dreams of a young boy with no hope and no family started to fade away. Reality was coming upon me day after day and I saw just how ugly the world was. By the time I was ten years old I had witnessed the most horrible of things. Death, pain, torture, hate. Every kind of suffering you could inflict upon a person. I became less naïve, more independent, more resourceful, and more intelligent. I did jobs that should be beyond my age level. I gained my own money and made my own suit of armor around me.

I pushed people away, never let anyone close so I'd never have to experience hurt again. I only hurt others. I hurt and I killed and I stole and I ruined. Honour was a thing of the past now. Honour is nothing, honour is only the eyes of a blind man. Strength and power and persuasion are the things that matter. When you possess all three elements, you are unstoppable. Until you're dead.

Today I was in a small town. It was raining but it was hot rain. A slight mist suspended a meter or two in the air and it was quite stuffy. This place reminded me of my old home. The poor begging on-goers for food. Sounds of people running in the squelching mud. But I tried not to get sucked in. I couldn't be at the mercy of my emotions. Not today.

I made my way down a narrow alleyway type thing, hiding close to the edges of the buildings so I wasn't noticed. But that was hard when I was probably the most noticeable person in the place. I wore a giant black cloak that covered me up from neck to ankle. My long, shaggy black hair was a total mess and I suppose I had the most suspicious look on my face. But that didn't matter. Nobody would cause trouble with me. They never did.

On my back I carried my backpack. Inside was a small sum of emergency money. Some of those golden coins which I found at Aunty Em's – I recently found they were called Drachmas. And also a compass and few matches. But it didn't matter what was inside that bag. I kept all my important things, just in case I ever lost the bag, inside my cloak pockets. A pretty good pocketknife, the gun, money, drachmas and a lighter. I figured that having a stash of the most important things close to me is best. Despite being quite tall for my age, it wasn't quite surprising that when I passed certain towns and places that big fat boys and older teenagers liked the look of me as a punching bag. I can fight them easily but more than once they almost escape with my bag.

But I didn't care what happened with my bag today. I had recently been with a client and had a new job. I was hesitant to the offer. It was decent money, more than usual, but I hadn't planned on staying in this town for more than a couple of days. And this process was a lot harder than my other missions. So, what happened? I've been stuck in this despicable place for a week and a half. I had been staying in a small loft in a barn shed – it stunk of shit and hay – but I was eager to get out.

Two fifty eight. In exactly two minutes my target would be leaving the Malcolm Business Corp. building and heading downtown for a coffee at Starbucks. I stood at the entrance of Starbucks, standing in front of the window of the shop, pretending to be browsing over the specials. I glance to my right and see my target coming just on time down the footpath so I head on inside the store and toward the receiving counter. He entered the café, his suit wet from the rain and made his way to order. A black coffee, one sugar.

His name was Harold Smith. A high up business man. He had a wife and three children, two in high school, the other in secondary. He lived a relatively normal life with, what appeared to seem, no worries. I have no idea why anybody would want him assassinated, but I don't ask those sort of questions. I simply give my client an answer and when it could be done then get my money. I wasn't one for logistics.

I wait by the receiving counter, once more pretending to be glancing over the kids menu on the wall when I hear his name being called and his coffee being placed right in front of me. In my hand was a small vial with a few inches of white powder. I undo the vial and quickly tip the power into his coffee, glad it just sinks in, completely untraceable. "Yours Sir?" I ask, grabbing the coffee and holding it out to Harold.

He nodded at me with a kind smile, taking the cup from my hands. "Thanks, kid."

He was no longer my problem.

Heading back outside, I bring my hood up over my head and walk along the footpath. I had a fair bit of the day left until I had to go and meet my client for my money so a walk could do me some good I suppose. I dig my hand into my pocket, retrieving a set of golden drachmas. I study them carefully whilst I walk, my eyebrows puckered.

I'm so concentrated on the coin in front of my eyes I don't notice the jagged bit of rock sticking up from the ground until I tripped over it. The drachma went flying from my hands and onto the road. Except, it doesn't land on the road. It sinks straight through.

That's odd.

I pull myself to my feet, ignoring the strange looks that I got, and brush the dust from my knees. I take a few reluctant steps forward when suddenly there's a roar coming down the road and right in front of me… is a New York City cab. Kind of. The side mirror is off its hinges, the yellow paint has been almost completely scratched off and there's so many dents in the car that I can't even count them.

"Well come on, get in why don't ya!" Came a raspy but impatient voice from in the cab.

I chew my lip.

What do I have to lose?

I'm shuffling toward the car and the next thing I know I'm sitting in the back seat of the cab. And the next thing? I'm realizing that three – no eyed – women are in the front, _driving the car. _I mentally curse myself. What even is this? Are people even noticing this? I don't know. I'm so confused.

"Come on sweetheart where we going today?" One of them asked.

I look at them, trying to decide where. I don't know. Where did I want to go?

"Uh… I uh"

"Well spit it out!" The second lady said.

The third interjected, "Zeus got your tongue?"

"Just drive!" I demand.

"Righto, no need to be snappy boy!" The first one replied to him and she slammed down the accelerator. I get pushed back into my seat by force and instinctively grab onto the side handles.

The three started arguing with each other about some eye or something and all the while I wonder what on earth was happening. One of them mentioned something about Zeus… I shake it from my head. No. I can't let the dreams of a young, stupid little, immature boy overtake me again. I was finally being someone. An unknown, dangerous someone. But a someone nonetheless.

"Oi boy, not that we don't love long car rides-"

"-Lots and lots of drachmas!"

"-But we need to know where we're going! So, where to?"

I swallow. I had no clue on where to go or what even to say, so I just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Take me to the half-bloods."

"Ahhhh, our kind of destination, _pricey_!"

Okay, so thirty drachmas later and an extra ten for some information from the driver's, I finally arrived to my 'destination.' I had taken a forty minute nap in the cab – which was more sleep than I had usually been getting – then got out of the cab, right in front of a giant archway. I paid the fare and didn't bother watching the crazy cab drivers leave because I was trying to decipher what the letters on the archway said. It was a language I had only seen a few times before: Greek.

The sign said Camp Half-Blood.

I bite my lip. What was I doing here? I'm no demi-god. I had 'mortal' parents. Well, dead ones. I guess I'd find out in seconds. I go forward, passing a giant tree which looked like it symbolized something, and straight through the archway. I feel a slight shiver erupting down my spine when I walk forward but I keep going.

I gasp at the sight. I take in the giant house down the hill a bit, further along I check over a set of, extremely different designed, cabins in rows. A giant arena and to its side something that looked like an armory. Toward the back a giant forest and to the right was the beach. This was so strange.

The cab drivers told me about Camp Half-Blood, about the demi-gods and their jobs as being heroes and going on quests and basically surviving. They said that the Big House – that giant house thing I'm guessing – is where all meetings are held for cabin counsellors and important things. The camp director and leaders, Mr D and Chiron. Apparently Chiron was a centaur, half-man, and half-horse. I chose that I'd believe that when I saw it. And boy did I see it.

I have trouble just going down the hill and when I get further into the camp it gets harder to walk as people stare at me. I had no idea what to do nor where to go. I just kept going. I felt nervous and insecure so I pulled the hood up over my head to cover myself, or, at least, block out the people who I could _see _watching me.

I'm holding my cloak close around me which is probably bringing more attention to myself but I keep going. I keep going until I hear a loud stampede of trotting coming up behind me. I turn on my heel, seeing the large rush of centaurs – okay, wow, take note, they're actually real – coming straight toward me. I dive out of the way into a bunch of bushes. Most of the centaurs continue with their trotting but one stays behind. He looks at me with a dark gaze, drawing me out from the darkness.

Embarrassingly, I come out from the bushes. I ignore the few sniggers and laughs from some 'campers' and look up at the half man, squinting to see him. "Come." The centaur gestured for me to walk beside him. "Child, you must be exhausted."

I expect him to ask who I am, what I'm doing here, how I got here. But no. What does he do? He pulls me into the Big House for a hot chocolate and some snickers bars. All I know is that centaurs confuse me.

Okay and I thought that assassinating an athlete was hard. You should try training in the arena. I had never had any practice with swords or any types of weapons other than my gun – which I, in fact, did not tell Chiron about – so this made everything more difficult. I felt like an idiot, being a newbie and all at camp. Though it wasn't anything new. I didn't try to fit in because what's the point? I'm not like them and we all know it. I'm dark, they're light. I'm alone, they're crowded. I'm broken, they're full. I could never be like these guys.


End file.
